midnight silence
by falling winter roses
Summary: bright green eyes stare at themselves through this odd, ironic window. and remus finds himself in this other body he wears. / for qlfc


_**chaser 1, qlfc forum, puddlemere united**_

_**season seven, round eight**_

_**main prompt:**_

**Strength —**

**Reversed: Self-Doubt, Weakness, Insecurity**

_**optional prompts:**_

**5\. (restriction) No mention of Hogwarts**

**10\. (quote) "Once a future is foretold, that future becomes a living thing, and it will fight very hard to bring itself about" — Legendary, Stephanie Garber**

**15\. (object) flask**

**word count: 1188**

**.**

_Flowers bloom in an eternal garden, midnight sky shining with stars… roses, dandelions, violets, daisies, scattered upon the dark green grass: a picture frame of perfection. A dream of art._

_The silence is broken by a growl… a snarl…_

And a six-year-old boy wakes to bright eyes and sharp canine teeth, bright green eyes wide in fear.

He's too shocked to make a sound. When the werewolf draws closer, eyes narrowing before it opens its jaws wide, Remus Lupin screams.

And Fenrir Greyback sinks his teeth in.

* * *

Years later, Remus Lupin wishes he had died that night. He wishes it almost every day — particularly after the nights of the full moon when he forced to remember what he is, no matter how much he wants to forget it.

But somehow, when he transforms, it isn't so bad. It makes him the monster he truly is, Remus supposes. Hiding the monster in a man is worse than showing its reality. At least _then_ he can let it out. He can let out the anger, the frustration, the spite, through one horrible long howl that lasts long through the night. During the rest of the month, that can never happen. It's not as if he has anyone to talk to besides his parents. He's isolated from the rest of humanity, and the only interaction he has with other children is watching them play from his bedroom window. The scene changes every time they move towns, every time the villagers start talking, but it is always the same. Winter, autumn, summer, spring… he is always apart. He is always alone.

And if he were to release his anger out on his parents… well, what good would that do? They don't deserve it. They don't deserve the monster of a son that he is.

Remus is only a child, but he notices his parents' bloodshot eyes and their set expressions. He notices the terrified look in his mother's eyes as the full moon approaches. He notices the desperation in his father's eyes as he tries, tries, _tries_ to find a cure. Flask after flask of expensive potions, ancient books of spells, and many other instances of false hope find their way into the household. Each one drives a further dagger into Lyall Lupin's sense of hope that he can undo that horrible night which, in his eyes, will always be his fault.

* * *

Remus barely remembers the rush of activity that followed his unearthly scream. All he remembers are the frightened screams of his mother and the angry howling of Fenrir Greyback as his father drove him out. He doesn't remember St. Mungo's, or the frantic fright of the Healers as they desperately did everything they could to save that little six-year-old's life.

And they failed. It was a lost cause. They saved the little boy's heart, brain, liver, kidneys, and everything that was _supposed _to give him life.

But they couldn't save _him_. They couldn't save the life that could've been his.

Remus thinks back on this, bitterly, for those first years.

That night, his future had been foretold.

And futures like his? They are living things. They fight through the calm exterior of one's last humanity to become true, to become real, recognized, to bring itself about into the accepted reality. They leave behind wounds of insecurity, weakness, self-hatred, fear, and the overwhelming self-doubt that comes when one becomes a monster once a month.

* * *

Remus expected to be stuck as a monster, isolated, for the rest of his life.

He never expected that he'd find the friends of his life.

He never expected to find not one, not two, but _three_ people who accepted him for who he was and loved him for it. Three people who would do anything, give anything, for him.

And he never expected to find the person who he'd forever love.

_Sirius._

* * *

Remus doesn't quite register it when it happens. At that moment, he is methodical, holding Harry back from running through and joining Sirius in that otherly land. His face is pale, he is falling apart, but he is _methodical_. He does not deny what has happened, even as his voice breaks as he tries to help Harry… _poor Harry…_

Because in this moment, Sirius cannot be the most important thing in the world (though in Remus' mind, he forever will be). In this moment, the most important thing is getting out. The most important thing is making sure that the others survive.

He cannot be in denial. He cannot be falling apart.

So through the muddled confusion in his mind, he says, "There's nothing you can do, Harry… nothing… He's gone."

He is saying that to Harry, for Harry, but in reality?

Those words are for himself.

* * *

The years following that night are the most painful of his life — even more painful than the time following the day where his future had been first foretold.

He finds himself falling into one memory of _him,_ grasping to a lifeline of love and hope that can no longer be true. A conversation between the two of them, years and years ago, the first time he had ever felt self-love since… _before._

"_I don't deserve this. You shouldn't… you shouldn't."_

"_Moons. It's been years. I know every single little part of you. I know you better than you know yourself. So trust me when I say that I love you, I know what I'm saying."_

"_Pads…"_

_The slightly shorter of the two pulls away and holds him at arm's length._

"_Moons, listen to me. Embrace yourself. Yes, you are a werewolf. Yes, you are a monster. But you have to realize that we _all _are. You have to realize that you are also beautiful. The wolf inside you? I've seen it all on these many nights we've spent together. The unspoken love and language of those bright eyes? The playful thoughts behind that smile? Those are the most beautiful things to exist. So, Remus John Lupin, embrace yourself. Stop chasing your tail. You are yourself and nothing can change that. You are good and evil. Wolf and human. Each has its evils, and each has its beauties. So stop hating the wolf, because you are only hating yourself. And I couldn't bear to see you look at yourself that way for the rest of our lives."_

"Oh, Sirius," Remus whispers to himself, eyes wet. "It seems that the rest of _our _lives wasn't to be."

He lowers his head, lets out a sob, and is silent.

* * *

Years later, on another midnight full-moon run, he finds himself — _it_self — standing in front of a broken mirror-plated flask, tossed aside as trash. He's in one of the old towns, one of his old lives, one tossed away as soon as some character began to suspect something amiss. He can't believe it's still there, after all this time, tossed in a fit of frustrated rage by Lyall Lupin. Tossed away when the potion inside didn't work.

Bright green eyes stare at themselves through this odd, ironic window. And Remus finds himself in this other body he wears.


End file.
